Shadows on the Ceiling
by Coneflower Adams
Summary: Lisa wakes to find she is married to the man that has haunted her. Doubt runs through her mind as she tries to decipher what is real and what is fiction.
1. Chapter 1

The lips against her neck pressed gently, bringing Lisa into conscious thought. The lips were soft but persistent, and Lisa found herself squirming away automatically. She didn't care who it was or how gentle they were, no one had permission to ravish her. 

The weight urging harder against her body flooded her mind with panic and she tried to pull away. Lisa's breathes grew more rapid at every failed attempt. "Get off," she tried to scream, but it only came out as a weak and shuttering sound.

But her assaulter heard her plea and pulled up on his elbow. Brown hair framed the face that had taunted her so many times in her waking and sleeping hours. He was supposed to be in prison, but here he was lying atop her in only a pair of boxers.

"Leese, what's wrong?" he sounded so genuine, like he really was concerned about her.

"You promised not to do this to me," she replied, breathlessly.

A boyish grin crossed his face. "I promised to honor, love, and cherish you. I never promised not to kiss the neck of my-" She didn't want to hear it. He was pulled back from her just enough...

Lisa dug her knee into his stomach. He groaned, rolling onto his back. Lisa jumped off the bed and rushed to the door. Her hand grabbed for the knob, but before she could turn it, she was spun around and yanked against a bare chest. Steely blue eyes stared directly into her.

"What's gotten into you, Leese?" he asked, confusion written on his face. "Who do you think I am?"

"You're Jackson Rippner!" she yelled, trying to wrench away from his hold around her waist. "What the hell are you doing out of prison?"

Jackson cocked his head dazed then a mischievous grin cracked his lips. "Is this one of our games?" he whispered, eyes twinkling. He dug his fingers into her back. "I know how you like it rough."

Lisa stared at him in horror, mouth gaped open. Was this some kind of cruel dream? Was she finally going mad from the torment of her unfortunate experiences? "You're a sick bastard," she growled, infuriated.

At that tone, Jackson's face dropped and he loosened his grip on her waist. "Leese, what's gotten into you?"

"You're acting like you don't know?" Lisa quickly stepped backwards from Jackson, putting a wanted distance between them. Her hand shook uncontrollably as she held it up in defense. "You took me hostage on a plane, threatened to kill my father, made me take part in an assassination attempt. Like all that has slipped your memory!"

"As a matter of fact, it has." The hurt look on Jackson's face didn't stir Lisa. She stood solid before him, ready to not believe a word out of his mouth. "You're starting to scare me, Lisa. I don't know what kind of dream you may have been having before you woke up, but none of that ever happened."

"You lie!" she screamed. She spun around, grabbing the handle again, but the door slammed shut at her tug.

"Lisa, please calm down," said Jackson. His tone unnerved her. Why was he sounding so concerned? She looked over her shoulder, making eye contact with him. They were the same eerie blue eyes that had pierced her soul so many times on the plane. But there was something different. They weren't cold, and that scared her even more.

"What's going on?" she asked in barely a whisper.

Jackson smiled nervously. "That's what I'm wondering myself." He placed a hand on her back, but Lisa flinched at his touch and Jackson frowned again. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about with me?"

Lisa took a deep breath, leaning heavily against the door. Jackson still held it shut. "What am I to you?"

Jackson snorted in disbelief. "You're my wife. See?" He held up his left hand, wiggling his fingers. Lisa glanced at his hand spotting a gold band on his ring finger. "You have one too."

It took a moment, but Lisa gained the courage to look down at her own hand. There, shining proud in the lamp light of the room, was a gold band matching Jackson's. She gulped at the sight. "You could have put the ring on my finger."

A frustrated sigh escaped Jackson, and he ran a hand through his hair. He flicked his eyes around the room, stopping on a photograph sitting perfectly on Lisa's vanity. He reached it in a couple strides, snatching it up and holding it out to her. "This is our wedding picture, Leese."

She hesitantly took the frame from him, and stared at it speechless. In the photo, she was dressed in a flowing, strapless white gown; Jackson in a black tuxedo with a blue tie. They both looked incredibly happy, smiling brightly and holding one another in a loving embrace. "You could have fabricated this."

"Why would I do that, Lisa?" His voice raised an octave as his frustration grew. "We love each other. We've been married for almost five years. Don't you remember any of it?"

Tears streaked down Lisa's cheeks and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, but no, I don't. I only know you as a murderer."

Jackson stared at her, confused and hurt. He stepped closer to her and said, "I don't know where you're getting this, but what is it going to take for me to convince you that our marriage is real?"

It couldn't have happened any better even if it had been planned. A small voice from the other side of the door called out, "Mommy? Daddy?"

Lisa's eyes were instantly wide in shock. "Is that-"

Jackson nodded slowly. "Our daughter."


	2. Chapter 2

A child? No, it couldn't be. Right after college, she had decided she wanted children. The rape had changed those plans, and as much as it broke Lisa's heart, she knew she might never have children of her own. 

The thought of having a child with Jackson had her stomach churned in waves of nausea. The only thing worst than that was her rapist impregnating her. She sucked in deeply, trying desperately to ignore her sickness. She wiped the tears from her face with her fingertips then asked, "What's her name?"

"Miranda," replied Jackson. She noted the upset in his voice, and realized she just had to ask the name of her own child. "But we've always called her Rannie for short."

Lisa nodded, moving to unblock the door. Jackson swung the door open, revealing a little girl around three years old. Lisa gasped inwardly. She hadn't expected to feel an instant material instinct toward this little girl. She was a spitting image of her and Jackson mixed. Her hair was a wavy mess of rusty brown locks like Lisa's and the shape of her face could be mistaken for her mother at a young age. But her eyes were intensely blue and lips thick like her father. She gazed at them sleepily as she clutched her stuffed lamby.

"I woke up," she murmured, rubbing an arm over her eyes. "I heard you yelling and got scared."

Jackson scooped up the little girl. "Everything is okay, Rannie. Mommy was just having a bad dream."

"Are you okay, Mommy?" Rannie asked innocently, laying her head on Jackson's shoulder.

Lisa smiled watery, reaching out tentatively to stroke her daughter's soft hair. The emotions welling inside her were overwhelming, and she fought to not burst into tears. "I'm okay. I'm sorry we woke you."

"Come on, squirt, I'll tuck you back in bed," Jackson said, rubbing her back in small circles.

"Why can't I stay with you?"

"Because Mommy and Daddy need to talk about something very important."

Rannie sighed and nuzzled comfortingly into the crook of her father's neck. For a moment, Lisa forgot who was in front of her and her heart warmed at the scene. She gave her daughter's hair one last stroke before Jackson slipped out the room.

This was the first time she was alone in their bedroom. Lisa couldn't move, frightened to find more evidence that showed her and Jackson were a happily married couple, but she forced herself to peer around the room. Their bedroom furniture was dark mahogany, a color she would have never picked out if she had a choice. Clothes were neatly hung across a chair's back in the far corner.

Lisa realized for the first time that she was still holding her wedding picture. She glanced at it, but couldn't hold her eyes on it for long. She couldn't – didn't – want to believe that was her in that picture standing so proudly beside the man she hated so much. She wanted to get the photo out of her sight, and went to replace it on the vanity.

Sitting on the vanity though was a framed picture of the family. Lisa froze before setting the wedding picture down, and stared transfixed at the other picture. The first thing she noted was how happy they looked. They were bunched together in a pile, Rannie in front being held around the waist by Jackson; Lisa with her arm thrown around her husband's neck, scrunching their cheeks together. Rannie had been laughing; she could tell by the way the little girl's mouth was open wide with mirth. The picture was the pinnacle of a perfect family, but it made Lisa feel as if she were sinking into a black hole. Nothing Jackson touched was happy or perfect.

Footfalls entered the bedroom and Lisa turned to find Jackson closing the door gingerly. It was a long moment as they gazed at each other without mobility. The corners of Jackson's lips were raised in what could be a smile but not quite.

"Rannie is back asleep," he said, trying to fill in the awkward silence.

Lisa nodded. "Good." She absently fiddled with the hem of her nightshirt. "She's a beautiful little girl."

Jackson's mouth finally melted into a real smile. "She's the best of both of us." Lisa could tell by the spark in his eyes how much he loved their daughter.

The silence fell in the room again, but Lisa quickly filled it. "You said we've been married for almost five years?"

"Five years in August," answered Jackson. He fidgeted with the nap of his neck, acting as if he wanted to come closer to her. "Listen Leese, I need to know what you recall of our past together. Can you tell me what you remember last before waking up here?"

Lisa averted her gaze to the carpeted floor. "I remember coming home to my apartment from my job at the Lux Atlantic."

"That's where you were working when we met," Jackson added offhandedly, but regretted saying it when Lisa flinched openly. "Is that the last thing you remember?"

"Yes." She nodded. "Yes, that's the last thing."

A deep sigh escaped Jackson's throat. He shuffled over to the bed and plopped down. "This is too strange," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You said I held you hostage on a plane?"

Lisa finally looked at him, but stayed rooted to the spot by the vanity. "You took me hostage, and threatened to kill my father if I didn't change the room of Charles Keefe at the Lux. I stabbed you in the neck with a pen to get away."

Jackson's eyes widened. "Yikes! That must be painful."

"It didn't stop you. You followed me to my father's house and tried to kill me."

"Apparently," Jackson eyed her slyly. "I didn't succeed."

Lisa snorted in what could have been a laugh. "No, you didn't."

"You know, Leese, you don't have to be scared of me," Jackson said, noticing her nervousness and the way she tried not to look at him. "I'm your husband. I'd do anything to protect you. Don't be scared." His voice was smooth and hypnotic, sending chills up Lisa's spine. In a way, she found it comforting and that didn't sit well with her. He patted the spot beside him on the bed. "Come sit by me and we can talk."

"I don't trust you."

"I wasn't asking you to. I just want to talk and figure out what's going on."

Lisa pulled out the vanity chair. "We can talk with me sitting over here." With that, she settled in the chair, crossing her legs. She wasn't about to give into Jackson even if he was being sincere.

Jackson nodded, slightly disappointed. "Is there anything you want to ask me?"

"How did we meet?" Lisa asked without hesitation.

A small smile graced his lips, and Lisa could see the memories flashing through Jackson's mind. "We met at the Dallas airport six years ago…"


	3. Chapter 3

Lisa stiffened at those words. The Dallas airport was where it all began. Jackson had conned his way into her life, making her believe he was a good guy that was interested in her.

"I was standing behind you in the check-in line. This jerk was causing a ruckus and you stepped in. I could tell by the way you were handling him that you were in some kind of authoritive job. That's what first attracted me to you."

Attracted? That sounded odd coming from Jackson's mouth. "You cut in and told the man to back off," Lisa continued for him.

Jackson nodded hopefully. "That's right."

"Then you asked to save me seat at the Tex Mex." Lisa finally looked him in the face and mimicked what he said so long ago. "Best nachos in the airport."

"And they are," Jackson confirmed with a smile. "I'm assuming you remember you joined me at the Tex Mex, and I guessed what kind of drink you enjoy."

Lisa flicked her eyes to the wall, bristling at the memory. "You guessed Seabreeze, but I told you Baybreeze."

Jackson lowered his head, abashed. "I didn't mean to make you nervous. I was aiming to impress."

The awkward silence once again surrounded them. Lisa expected what Jackson was going to say next, though she doubted the assassination plot would be included in the story.

"When we got on the plane," Jackson finally continued, "we happen to be sitting next to one another. Can't say that I wasn't surprised."

_Like hell you weren't – _Lisa thought.

"We talked the entire flight then we hit Starbucks and grabbed a couple lattés after landing."

Lisa sucked in sharply and stood instantly as if someone had stuck her with a pin. All she could hear were his words echoing in her ear of the misfired plan - "…_we'll hit Starbucks, grab a couple lattés, kill ten or fifteen minutes until I get the call that Keefe has been taken out then I'll walk out of your life." _

She had to get out of the room. The door was so close, she could just reach out a hand and-

"Lisa!" Hands clamped onto her arms. She let out an enrage growl, and jerked her whole body away from Jackson's hold. She lost her balance, slamming into the wall.

"Calm down, Leese!" hissed Jackson, pressing himself against her, pinning her to the wall. Lisa struggled, but that only made him press harder. "You're really starting to scare me," he said, his breath heating her cheek. "Please calm down. I don't want Rannie to wake up again."

Lisa's body went limp at the mention of their daughter's name. Sobs irrupted from her chest. Jackson loosened his body from hers, and she slid down the wall pulling her knees tightly to her chest. Jackson sunk down with her, looking at her with sympathy and bemusement. He wanted to stroke her hair, wipe away her tears, and just hold her. It took his whole will to resist the actions. Comforting Leese would only make things worse.

"Could this," he started carefully, rubbing his chin in thought, "be a result of the rape? I mean, it's close to the anniversary."

Once those words left his mouth, Jackson was regretting them. His wife began shaking, falling even deeper into the past that haunted her. Jackson instinctively reached out to her, but Lisa threw him a wild glare and through gritted teeth said, "Stay away!"

Jackson fell back on his rump, bowing his head and running a hand through his meshed hair. There had to be something he could do to help. His head snapped up, startled at Lisa's sudden urgency.

"The scar," she rasped. "Let me see your scars."

"What-"

"Where I stabbed you with a pen on your neck!" she answered before Jackson could get the question out. He stared at her for a long moment, the depth of what she just said sinking in. "Where?"

"Lower middle of your neck."

He slowly cocked his head back. Lisa cautiously drew near him, desperate and determined to prove that he was lying and all this was just some sick joke. In the lamp light though, she couldn't find a single mark. She hesitantly raised her hand to brush fingers across his neck only to find smooth skin.

"This can't be," she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. She let out a shuttering breath as she felt the other side of his neck, finding nothing. "No, I stabbed you. Take off your shirt."

"Excuse me?" Jackson asked, eyebrows knitting together. Usually when she'd say that, his excitement would get the best of him and his shirt would be discarded in a matter of seconds. Now, however, he was afraid to do anything around Lisa, including anything that she told him to do.

But, Jackson obeyed and tugged his shirt, which he had put on while putting Rannie back to bed, over his head. Lisa quickly examined his chest, feeling for any puckered skin or evidence of any scars. She slumped backwards, blinking through tears.

"May I ask what you were looking for?" said Jackson as he pulled his white cotton shirt back on.

Lisa gulped. "I shot you then my Dad shot you. You should have two bullet holes." She furiously wiped away tears with the heels of her hands, her breathing growing more ragged. "I shot you." Ever word was emphasized. Jackson stared helplessly at his wife as she began slapping his chest and shoulders. "I shot you!"

He couldn't take it anymore and caught her wrists, pulling her inches from his face. "Leese, please stop. You're hurting yourself." She dissolved into uncontrollable sobs, and didn't resist when Jackson hugged her to his chest wrapping his arms protectively around her. "I don't know what happened to you, Leese," he said stroking her disarrayed locks, "but we're going to find out."


	4. Chapter 4

_Writer's note: I'm sorry that this took so long to get updated! I lost my inspiration to write anything for a long time, and when I got my inspiration back, it was mostly for another fandom. Anyroad, thanks to everyone who has asked for it and has patiently been waiting._

* * *

The rest of the night went without much sleep. Lisa didn't feel safe being in the bedroom with Jackson. She asked where their daughter's room was, and Jackson obligingly pointed her in that direction. Rannie's bedroom was only a few feet down the hall on the opposite side of the hallway, but the short walk down the dark corridor was unnerving knowing that Jackson was behind her. She waited for a malicious figure to jump out at her at any moment, but none came and Lisa slipped into her daughter's room without a sound.

The little girl lay clutching her lamby, but her closed eyes were loose and her breathing was peaceful. Lisa found herself lightly caressing Rannie's cheek. She couldn't believe she had given birth to something so beautiful, but she couldn't remember giving birth. She couldn't remember anything of this life that she supposedly had lived for several years.

Lisa took a deep breath. There wasn't anything she could do until morning. Jackson had informed her before she left their room that they were going to visit a psychiatrist in the morning. The idea sounded good, but Lisa's mind became more uneasy at the thought of it.

She would have bolted by now if it hadn't been for the little girl she watched over this night. The peace surrounding Rannie seemed so inviting and all Lisa wanted to do was curl up beside her. She sat down softly at the foot of the bed, laying her head on her arm and drifting off to the sound of her daughter's breathing.

* * *

Rannie was still asleep - her right arm and leg hallway off the bed - when Lisa awoke. She breathed in deep, peering around confused for a moment until the events of the night before came rushing back to memory. The only thing she could do now was get up and see what Jackson had planned.

She made her way carefully down the hallway. She heard scraping and sizzling up ahead to her left, and found Jackson in the kitchen over the shove. She didn't know what else to say, but "Good morning."

Jackson spun around, a wide smile across his face. "Good morning, Leese. Did you get any sleep?"

"A little," she replied, standing in the threshold of the kitchen. "I have a crick in my neck from laying on Rannie's bed."

"That always happens when Rannie puppy-dog-eyes you into lying with her until she falls asleep," Jackson said, fondly. "You want me to rub the kinks out?"

At Lisa's wary expression, Jackson added, "Maybe not." He flipped the contents of the frying pan. "How many pancakes would you like?"

"I usually eat-"

"Two stacked up with maple syrup on top. Real maple syrup, not the fake sugar loaded kind." Jackson smiled sheepishly. He slipped another pancake on top of the pile on a plate. "Sorry. I was just trying to be courteous, but I know you better than anyone. You can sit at the table. It's okay."

Lisa stayed in her spot by the threshold for another minute watching Jackson poured more batter into the pan. It was surreal seeing Jackson cook. When they first met at the airport in Dallas, she imagined that he was one of those men that always ate out and had a spotless kitchen that was never used. This kitchen she was now stepping into was clean, but obviously used often.

"I already called Dr. Jameson. We have an appointment for 10 o'clock."

"Who's Dr. Jameson?" Lisa asked as she settled in the chair farthest from the stove.

"Oh, he's a psychologist friend of mine. I met him right after we moved to Montana."

Lisa's eyes widened. She had assumed they were still in Florida and the thought of where they were never crossed her mind. "We're in Montana? How did we end up here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from rising.

Jackson chuckled to himself. "My job. I decided to take it after we found out you were pregnant."

If they lived in Montana then what about… "Is my dad still in Miami? How often do we visit each other?"

Jackson's shoulders tensed. "I'm sure Joe is still in Miami, but you haven't seen him since before we were married."

She knew it. As soon as the question left her lips, she knew what the answer would be. Of course she wasn't in contact with her dad. The situation – to her suspicions – called for it. She sat silently as Jackson placed three plates on the table then brought the plate of pancakes over to set in the middle.

"He didn't like me," Jackson continued, sitting opposite of his wife. "From the moment we met, I was honest about my past. I didn't want something to bite us years down the line and cause a riff in our married. So, I was up front and honest and told you during my college years I worked for a company that organized foreign assassination. Your dad didn't think it was safe for you to be with me, because there was a chance I could be targeted for past jobs I had been involved with. You wouldn't hear any of it, and you two had a huge falling out. It hurt you so badly to not have Joe walk you down the aisle."

The kitchen fell silent again – Lisa combing over all the information he had just given her; Jackson waiting for her to accuse him of something. She didn't have the chance to.

"Mommy. Daddy," the little voice caught them both off guard.

A smile lit Jackson's face. "Good morning, darling. Are you ready to eat breakfast?" Rannie rubbed her eyes as she walked over to Jackson and climbed in his lap. He looked over at Lisa who was staring longingly at the little girl. "We'll talk more at Dr. Jameson's office."


	5. Chapter 5

Shadows on the Ceiling

Chapter 5

"It seems you are suffering from a condition called Continuous Amnesia." Jackson and Lisa listened intently as the Dr. Jameson explained. "It occurs when the individual has no memory for events beginning from a certain point in the past continuing up to the present."

Dr. Jameson leaned forward on his big oak desk, hands clasped together in the usual doctor's manner. "What I can't explain is that you are having an opposite reaction to it. Instead of remembering happy events in your life, you only remember the traumatic ones. Then there is the obvious twisting of how you met Jackson. The only way I can explain why your mind is doing that, is maybe you are associating Jackson with the man who raped you and you mind goes for the most traumatic situation, being Jackson threatening the life of your father and also trying to kill you."

"So," Jackson intervened. "is there a treatment, Ron?"

Dr. Jameson shook his head. "No, the only thing you can do is surround Lisa with stories and pictures and home movies of happier times with you and your daughter."

"Then will I remember everything?" Lisa asked. Hearing the diagnosis made her heart drop to her stomach. She wasn't worried much for how she felt toward Jackson, but the little girl at home obviously needed her to remember.

"It's a fifty-fifty shot, Lisa. It isn't guaranteed."

Jackson's shoulders visibly dropped. The wonderful life they had had for the past six years seemed to break and fall to pieces around his feet at that statement. With what Lisa thought he had done to her, she would never trust him again.

Lisa glanced over at Jackson's hunched figure. He looked so helpless and distraught. A twinge of sympathy tugged at her heart for him, but quickly dismissed it.

"Come back for a checkup in a week," Dr. Jameson said, standing. " If there is no change, I'll do some more research on this condition and see if there's anything that can be done."

"Thank you, Ron" Jackson replied standing and shaking the doctor's hand.

"I hope we can get you back to your old self, Lisa."

Lisa gave him a small smile. "I hope so too for Rannie's sake."

Jackson nodded in agreement. ⌠Well, let's get you home and take a walk down memory lane."

***

"Here are the photo albums from our first year together." Jackson walked around the couch holding a pile of different style photo albums. He placed them on the coffee table in front of Lisa. He pulled out a light pink scrap book from the bottom of the pile. ⌠And here is the fancy scrap book you made for Rannie as a baby. You worked tirelessly on this every week recording all that Rannie did, even when she let out a cute burp." Lisa almost smiled. She took the scrap book from him and opened the first page.

An hour later, Jackson had left to pick up Rannie from daycare. Lisa was left alone in the unfamiliar house to explore whatever she wanted. But a home movie had caught her interest at the moment:

It was her giving birth to Rannie. Her hair was wet and stuck to her face. Jackson was next to her, holding her hand and hopping from foot to foot in anticipation. He'd smooth her forehead, and she'd swat his hand away as she yelled at him. Every time she'd yell at him, Jackson would reply calmly, "I know you love me even if you call me that."

Then there was the cry of a baby and Lisa lay back, crying too. A few minutes later, the baby was placed into her arms. She stared at her in relief, but Jackson stared at the baby in wonder. He touched her tiny hand then bent down and kissed Lisa on the forehead.

The video was something Jackson couldn't have fabricated. It was her, plan as day, giving birth. Lisa let out a frustrated sigh. How? How was this possible? There was no way she could deny the video.

The next scene on the tape was of Jackson sleeping on the couch. The baby was nestled in the crook of his arm. Lisa was speaking softly into the camera, "Here's the new daddy and baby. They look so adorable, so perfect."

Lisa had to admit, the image was beautiful. She watched a few more scenes - one with Jackson trying to feed Rannie and another where Lisa was making Rannie laugh. By that time, she heard a car pulled up and knew her time to explore was over. But after seeing the videos, she wasn't sure if it was even needed. She did, however, wanted to call her father. But that was for another day.

***

_This is the first thing I have posted on in almost two years! Must get back into writing..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Isn't there anything about the Lux?"

Lisa scanned the internet, searching for any evidence of the terrorist attack on the Lux. Finding her name in an article about the attack would give her proof that Jackson was involved in it.

"Surfing the net?" Lisa jumped at Jackson's voice. She snapped her head up to see him give her a sympathetic look. "Sorry."

Lisa frowned. "I…I was just checking on a few things."

Jackson nodded in understanding.

It had been five days since Lisa's sudden amnesia. Jackson was trying his best to be patient, but his patience was wearing thin. She was very stand-offish toward him and that didn't help matters. Lisa hadn't remembered anything. Nothing even seemed remotely familiar to her. She tried to be motherly toward Rannie, but Jackson could see she didn't quite know how to do it.

"Here." Jackson held out his hand. Lisa stared at the object, confused. It was a paper airplane. "Take it." Lisa hesitantly grabbed the paper airplane gingerly with her index and middle finger. She looked at it for a moment then asked, "What is it for?"

"On our first date, I gave you a paper airplane. I thought I was being clever with us meeting on a plane." Jackson scratched the back of his head nervously as if he was trying not to get his hopes up for Lisa suddenly remembering everything because he showed her a dumb paper airplane.

"Oh," was all Lisa could say. It sounded like such a simple yet romantic gesture. Her heart probably warmed to near flames, if what he said actually happened. She gave him a little smile. "That's very sweet."

"Listen, I'm going to go out and get your favorite dessert from this bakery in town. Maybe eating something you enjoy here will jog your memory."

"I'm not very hungry right now," Lisa said before Jackson could make his way to the door.

"Okay." Jackson fiddled with the change in his pocket. "What about watching some more home movies? You haven't watched the one of our wedding day."

Lisa's stomach clinched. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet." He looked at her like she had shot him (again). "I'm sorry, Jackson."

"Then, let's talk." He pulled his desk chair up to hers and plopped down, anxious now.

"I just feel like being alone."

Oh no. Jackson growled, his nostrils flaring. He was trying everything to help, but Lisa wasn't co-operating! He vaulted up, his chair skidding backwards. Lisa jumped and stared wide-eyed at him, renewed fear at his unexpected action. Or maybe it was something she had expected him to do for days now.

But Jackson didn't say or do anything to her. He stormed out the office, and a minute later, Lisa heard his car pulling rather hastily out the driveway.

***

"It's been five days, Ron," Jackson said, pacing in front of Dr. Jameson's desk. "Nothing, absolutely nothing seems familiar to her!"

Dr. Jameson shook his head, disappointingly. "You must give it time, Jackson. Five days does not account for a long time when it comes to a person suffering from amnesia. You've always been impatient."

Jackson gave him a steely-eyed look. "Don't you start that crap with me. Can you blame me for wanting my wife back? She barely looks at me. Isn't there anything else you can do like give her a prescription or maybe hypnosis?"

"I do not believe those treatments will work in Lisa's case," Dr. Jameson replied, trying to get back to the paperwork on his desk.

Jackson leaned down over the desk, a foot from the doctor's face – gazing intensely. "I don't care if you believe it won't work in Lisa's case. I want you to try everything you possibly can to get her memory back."

Dr. Jameson's calm demeanor was starting to grow intolerant. He stared at Jackson with the same intensity. "I am the doctor here, Jackson. I will do what I think is right for Lisa's case."

"I'm her husband, and I will do anything I can to get her back."

With that, Jackson stalked out.


End file.
